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Who e'er difcharg'd Artillery on a Fly?
Deride not Vice; Abfurd the thought and vain,
To bind the Tiger in fo weak a chain.

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320

She wounds reluctant; pours her balm with joy ;
Glad to commend where worth attracts her eye.
Butchief, when Virtue, Learning, Arts decline,
She joys to fee unconquer'd merit shine;
Where borting glories, with departing ray,
True Genius gilds the clofe of Britain's Day:
With joy the fees the ftream of Roman art,
From Murray's tongue flow purer to the heart:
Sees York to fame, ere yet to Manhood known, 325
And just to every virtue, but his own ;

Hears unfain'd Cam with generons pride proclaim,
A Sage's, Critic's, and and a Poet's name :
Beholds, where Widcombe's happy hills afcend,
Each orphan'd Art and Virtue find a friend :
To Hagley's honour'd bade directs her view;
And cuils each flower to form a Wreath for you.

330

Nay more; when flagrant crimes your laughter move, Befet with faithlefs precipices round:

But tread with cautious fteps this dangerous ground,

The Knave exults: to fmile, is to approve.
The Mufe's labour then fuccefs fhail crown,
When Folly feels her fmile, and Vice her frown.

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280

Know next what measures to each Theme belong,
And fuit your thoughts and numbers to your fong:
On wing proportion'd to your quarry rife,
And ftoop to earth, or foar among the skies.
Thus when a modifh folly you rencarfe,
Free the expreffion, fimple be the verfe.
In artless numbers paint th' ambitious Peer,
That mounts the box, and fhines a Charioteer:
In ftrains familiar fing the midnight toil
Of Camps and Senates difciplin'd by Hoyle;
Patriots and Chiefs, whofe deep defign invades,
Aed carries off the captive King-of Spades!
Let Satire here in milder vigour thine,
And gayly graceful sport along the line;
Bid courtly paffion quit her thin pretence,
And fmile each Affectation into fenfe.

285

Truth be your guide: diftain Ambition's call; 335
And if you fall with Truth, you greatly fall.
'Tis Virtue's native luftre that must shine;
The Poet can but fet it in his line:
And who unmov'd with laughter can behold
A fordid pebble meanly grac'd with gold?
Let real Merit then adorn your lays,
For fhame attends on proftituted praise :
And all your wit, your moft diftinguish'd art,
But makes us grieve you want an honeft heart.

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350

Nor think the Mufe by Satire's Law confin'd: 345
She yields defcription of the noblest kind.
Inferior art the Landscape may defign,
And paint the purple evening in the fine:
Her daring thought eflays a higher plan;
Her hand delierieates Paffion, pictures Man.
290 And great the toil, the latent foul to trace,
To paint the heart, and catch internal grace ;
By turns bid Vice or Virtue ftrike our eyes,
Now bid a Wolfey or a Cromwell rife ;
Now, with a touch more facred and refin'd,
Call forth a Chesterfield's or a Lonfdale's mind.
Here let the pencil warm, the canvafs glow :
Here fweet or ftrong may every Colour flow,
Of light and fhade provoke the noble ftrife,
And wake each striking feature into life.

Not fo when Virtue by her Guards betray'd,
Spurn'd from her Throne, implores the Mufe's aid;
When crimes, which erft in kindred darkness lay, 295
Rife frontlefs, and infult the eye of day;
Indignant Hymen veils his hallow'd fires,
And white-rob'd Chastity with tears retires;
When rank Adultery on the genial bed

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360

Hot from Cocytus rears her baleful head:
When private Faith and public Truft are fold,
And Traitors barter Liberty for goid:

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When fell Corruption dark and deep, like fate,
Saps the foundation of a finking State:
When Giant-Vice and Irreligion rife,
On mountain'd falfehoods to invade the skies:
Then warmer numbers glow through Satire's page,
And all her fmiles are darken'd into rage:
On eagle-wing the gains Parnaffus' height,
Not lofty Epic foars a nobler flight:
Then keener indignation fires her eye;
Then flash her lightnings, and her thunders fly;
Wide and more wide her flaming bolts are hurl'd,
Till all her wrath involves the guilty World.

Yet Satire oft affumes a gentler mien,
And beams on Virtue's friends a fmile ferene!

310

ver.

PART III.

The Hiftory of Satire. Roman Satirifts, Luciliu., Horace, Perfius, Juvenal, ver. 357, &c. Caufes of the Decay of Literature, particularly of Satire, 389. Revival of Satire, 401. Erafmus one of its principal Reftorers, ver. 405. Donne, ver. 411. The Abufe of Satire in England, during the licentious Reign of Charles 11. ver. 415. Dryden, ver. 429. The true Ends of Satire parfued by Boileau in France, ver. 439. and by Mr. Pope in England, ver. 445.

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This Mufe in filence joy'd each better Age,
Till glowing crimes had wak'd her into rage.
Truth faw her honeft fpleen with new delight,
And bade her wing her hafts, and urge their flight.
First on the Sons of Greece the prov'd her art,
And Sparta felt the fierce lambic dart.
To Latium next, avenging Satire flew :
The flaming talchion rough Lucilius drew;

With dauntless warmth in Virtue's cause engag'd,
And confcious Villains trembled as he rag'd.

365 Wit's fhattered Mirror lies in fragments bright,
Reflects not Nature, but confounds the fight.
Dry Morals the Court-Poct blush'd to fing;
'Twas all his praife to fay "the oddest thing." 430
Proud for a jeft obfcene, a Patron's nod,
370 To martyr Virtue, or blafpheme his God:

Ill-fated Dryden! who unmov'd can fee
Th' extremes of wit and meannefs join'd in Thee?
Flames that could mount, and gain the kindred skies,436

Then fportive Horace caught the generous fire; 375 Low creeping in the putrid fink of vice:

For Satire's bow refign'd the founding lyre;
Each arrow polish'd in his hand was feen,

And, as it grew more polith'd, grew more keen.
Hi. art, conceal'a in ftudy'd negligence;
Politely fly, cajol'd the foes of fenfe;
He feem'd to fport and trifle with the dart,
But, while he fported; drove it to the heart.

In graver ftrains majestic Perfius wrote;
Big with a ripe exuberance of thought:
Greatly fedate, contemn'da Tyrant's reign,
And lafh'd Corruption with a calm difdain.
More ardent Eloquence, and boundless rage,
Inflame bold Juvenal's exalted page.
His mighty numbers aw'd corrupted Rome,
And fwept audacious greatness to its doom;
The headlong torrent, thundering from on high;
Rent the proud rock that lately brav'd the sky.

But lo! the fatal Victor of Mankind,
Swoln Luxury !-pale Ruin stalks behind!
As countless Infects from the north-east pour,
To blait the Spring, and ravage every flower;
So barbarous Millions fpread contagious death:
The fickening Laurel wither'd at their breath.
Deep Superftition's night the fkies o'erhung,
Bencath whofe baleful dews the Poppy (prung.
No longer Genius woo'd the Nine to love,
But Dulness nodded in the Mufe's grove;
Wit, Spirit, Freedom, were the fole offence,
Nor aught was held fo dangerous as Senfe.

At length, again fair Science fhot her ray,
Dawn'd in the fkies, and fpoke returning day.
Now, Satire, triumph o'er thy flying foe,
Now load thy quiver, ftring thy flacken'd bow!
'Tis done-See great Erafmus breaks the fpeil,
And wounds triumphant Folly in her Cell!
(In vain the folemn Cowl furrounds her face,
Vain all her bigot cant, her four grimace)
With fhame compell'd her leaden throne to quit,
And own the force of Reafon urg'd by Wit.

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A Mufe whom Wifdom wood, but woo'd in vain,
The Pimp of Power, the Prostitute to Gain:
Wreaths, that should deck fair Virtue's form alone,
To Strumpets, Traitors, Tyrants, vilely thrown : 440
Unrival'd Parts, the fcorn of honeft fame;
And Genius rife, a Monument of shame!

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But fee, at length, the British Genius fmile. And shower her bounties o'er her favour'd Ifle: 450 Behold for Pope the twines the laurel crown, And centres every Poet's power in one : Each Roman's force adorns his various page; 395 Gay fmiles, collected ftrength, and manly rage. Defpairing Guilt and Dulnefs loath the fight, As Spectres vanish at approaching light; In this clear Mirror with delight we view Each Image juftiy fine, and boldly true i 400 Here Vice dragg'd torth by Truth's fupreme decree, Beholds and hates her own deformity;

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While felf-feen Virtue in the faithful line
With modeft joys furveys her form divine.
But oh, what thoughts, what numbers shall I find,
But faintly to exprefs the Poet's mind!

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405 Who yonder Stars' effulgence can display,
Unless he dip his pencil in the ray?
Who paint a God,-unless the God inspire ?
What catch the lightning, but the speed of fire?
So, mighty Pope, to make thy Genius known,
410 All power is weak, all numbers-but thy own. 47
Each Mufe for thee with kind contention ftrove,
For thee the Graces left th' Idalian grove;
With watchful fondnefs o'er thy craddle hung,
Attun'd thy voice, and form'd thy intant tongue.
Next to her Bard majestic Wifdom came;
The bard enraptur'd caught the heavenly flame:
With tafte fuperior fcorn'd the venal tribe,'
Whom fear can fway, or guilty greatnefs bribe;
At Fancy's call who rear the wanton fail,
Sport with the ftream, and trifle in the gale:
Sublimer views thy daring Spirit bound;
Thy mighty Voyage was Creation's round;
Intent new Worlds of Wifdom to explore,
And bleis Mankind with Virtue's facred store;
A nobler joy than Wit can give, impart
And pour a moral tranfport o'er the heart.

"Twas then plain Donne in honeft vengeance rofe,
His Wit harmonious, though his Rhyme was profe;
He 'midft an Age of Puns and Pedants wrote
With genuine fenfe, and Roman ftrength of thought.

Yet fcarce had Satire well relum'd her flame,
(With grief the Mufe records her Country's fhame) 420
Ere Britain faw the foul revolt commerce,
And treacherous Wit began her war with Senfe.
Then rofe a fhameless mercenary train,
Whom latest Time fhall view with just difdain:
Arace Jantastic, in whofe gaudy line
Untuter'd thought and tinfel beauty frinex

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Fantastic Wit shoots momentary fires,

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And, like a meteor, while we gaze, expires:
Wit kindled by the fulphurous breath of Vice,
Like the blue lightning, while it shines, deftroys: 490
But Genius, fi'd by Truth's eternal ray,
Burns clear and conftant, like the fource of day:
Like this its beam, prolific and refin'd,
Feeds, wa ms, infpirits, and exalts the mind;
Mildly difpels each wintery Paffion's gloom,
And opens all the Virtues into bloom.
This praife, immortal Pope, to thee be given.
Thy Genius was indeed a Gift from Heavens
Hail, Bard unequal'd, in whofe deathless line
Reafon and wit with ftrength collected shine;
Where matchlefs Wit but wins the fecond praife,
Loft, nobly loft, in Truth's fuperior blaze.
Did Friendship e'er mislead thy wandering Mufe?
That Friendship fure may plead the great excufe:
That facred Friendship which infpir'd thy Song, 505
Fair in defect, and amiably wrong.

Error iike this ev'n Truth can scarce reprove;
'Tis almoft Virtue when it flows from Love.

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515

Ye deathless Names, ye Sons of endless praise,
By Virtue crown'd with never-fading bays! 510
Say, fhall an attlefs Mufe, if you infpire,
Light her pale lamp at your immortal fire?
Or if, O Warburton, infpir'd by You,
The dating Mufe a nobler path pursue,
By You infpir'd, on trembling pinions foar,
The facred founts of focial blits explore,
In her bold numbers chain the Tyrant's rage,
And bid her Country's glory fire her page;
If fuch her fate, do thou, fair Truth, defcend,
And watchful guard he: in an hone it end:
Kindly fevere, inftru&t her equal line
To court no Friend, no own a Foe but thine.
But if her giddy eye fhould vainly quit

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Thy facred paths, to run the maze of wit;

If her apoftate heart should e'er incline
To offer incenfe at Corruption's fhrine ;
Urge, urge thy power, the black attempt confound,
And dafh the fmoaking Cenfer to the ground.
Thus aw'd to fear, instructed Bards may fee
That guilt is doom'd to fink in Infamy.

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Ver. Vh

$30

AN

ESSAY ON MAN

IN

FOUR EPISTLES;

ΤΟ

H. St. John, Lord Bolingbroke,

ARGUMENT OF

EPISTLE I.

Of the Nature and State of Man with re spect to the Universe.

OF Man in the abftra&t.-I. That we can judge only with regard to our own fyftem, being ignorant of the relations of fyftems and things, ver. 17, &c. II. That Man is not to be deemed imperfect, but a Being fuited to his place and rank in the creation, agreeable to the general Order of things, and conformable to Ends and Relations to him unknown, ver. 35, &.. III. That it is partly upon bis Ignorance of future events, and partly upon the hope of a future ftate, that all bis happiness in the prefent depends, ver. 77, &c. IV. The pride of aiming at more knowledge, and pretending to more Perfection, the caufe of Mar's error and milery. The impiety of putting himself in the place of God, and judging of the fitness or unfitnes, perfection or imperfection, juftice or injuftice, of. bis difpenfations, ver. 100, &c. V. The abfurdity of conceiting himself the final caufe of the creation, or expecting that perfection in the moral world, which is not in the natural, ver. 131, &c. VI. The unreasonableness of bis complaints against Providence, qobile in the one hand be demands the Perfection of the Angels, and on the other the bodily qualifications of the Brutes; though, to poffefs any of the jenfitive faculties in a higher degree, would render kim miferable, ver. 173, &c. VII. That throughout the abbole vifible world, an univerfal order and gradati on in the fenfual and mental faculties is obferved, which caufes a fubordination of creature to creature, and of all creatures to Man. The gradations of fenfe, inftinet, thought, reflection, reafin; that redfon alone countervails all the other faculties, ver. 207. VIII. How much farther this order and juberdina tion of living creatures may extend above and beiss us; were any part of which broken, not that part only, but the abole connected creation must be destroyed, ver. 233. IX. The extravagance, midniji, and pride of fuch a defire, ver. 250. X. The cinfequence of all the abflate fubmiffion due to Prov dence, both as to our prefent and future flats, vor. 281, . to the end.

A aa

A

EPISTLE I.

WAKE, my St. John! leave all meaner things
To low ambition, and the pride of Kings.
Let us (fince Life can little more fupply
Than just to look about us and to die)
Expatiate free o'er ail this fcene of Man;
A mighty maze but not without a plan :

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A Wild, where weeds and flowers promifcuous shoot;
Or Garden, tempting with forbidden fruit.
Together let us beat this ample field,
Try what the open, what the covert yield;
The latent tracts, the giddy heights, explore
Of all who blindly creep, or fightless foar;
Eye Nature's walks, fhoot Folly as it flies,
And catch the Manners living as they rife:

So Man, who here seems principal alone,
Perhaps acts fecond to fome fphere unknown,
"Tis but a part we fee, and not a whole.
Touches fome wheel, or verges to fome goal;

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When the proud fteed fhall know why man rea
ftrains

His fiery courte, or drives him o'er the plains;
Is now a victim, and now Egypt's God:
When the dull Ox, why now he breaks the clod,

Then fhall Man's pride and dulnefs comprehend 65
His actions', paflions', being's, use and end;
Why doing, futtering, check'd, impell'd; and why
This hour a flave, the next a deity.

Then fay not Man's imperfect, Heaven in fault;
Say rather, Man's as perfect as he ought;

Laugh where we muft, be candid where we can ; 15 His knowledge measur'd to his ftate and place;

But vindicate the ways of God to man.

1. Say first, of God above, or Man below, What can we reafon, but from what we know? Of man, what fee we but his ftation here, From which to reafon, or to which refur? Through worlds unnumber'd through the God be known,

'Tis ours to trace him only in our own.

He, who through vaft immensity can pierce,
See worlds on worlds compofe one universe,
Obferve how fyftem into fyftem runs,
What other planets circle other funs,
What vary'd Being peoples every star,
May tell why Heaven has made us as we are.
But of this frame the bearings and the ties,
The strong connections, nice dependencies,
Gradations juft, has thy pervading foul
Look'd through? or can a part contain the whole?

Is the great chain, that draws all to agree,
And drawn fupports, upheld by God, or thee?

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His time a moment, and a point his space.
If to be perfect in a certain fphere,

What matter, foon or late, or here, or there?
The bleft to-day is as completely fo,
As who began a thousand years ago.

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75

III. Heaven from all creatures hides the book of
Fate,

All but the page prefcrib'd, their present state:
From brutes what men, from men what fpirits know:
Or who could fuffer Being here below?
The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day,

25 Had he thy Reafon, would he skip and play?
Pleas'd to the last, he crops the flowery food,
And licks the hand just rais'd to fhed his blood.
Oh blindness to the future! kindly given,
That each may fill the circle mark'd by Heaven;
Who fees with equal eye, as God of all,

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A hero perish, or a sparrow fall,

Atoms or fyftems into ruin huri'd,

And now a bubble burit, and now a world.

II. Prefumptuous Man! the reafon wouldst thou
find,

Why form'd fo weak, fo itttle, and fo blind?
First, if thou canft, the harder reafon guess,
Why form'd no weaker, blinder, and no lefs?
Afk of thy mother earth, why oaks are made
Taller or weaker than the weeds they fhade;
Or afk of yon ler argent fields above,
Why Jove's Satellites are lefs than Jove?

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85

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Of Syftems poffible, if 'tis confeft, That Wifdom infinite muft form the best, Where all muft full or not coherent be,

Lo, the poor Indian! whofe untutor'd mind
Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind;
His foul proud Science never taught to ftray
Far as the folar walk, or milky way;

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45

And all that rifes, rife in due degree;
Then, in the fcale of reafoning life, 'tis plain,.
There must be, fomewhere, fuch a rank as Man:
And all the question (wrangle e'er fo long)
Is only this, if God has plac'd him wrong ?

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Yet fimple Nature to his hope has given,
Behind the cloud-topt hill, an humbler heaven;
Some fafer world in depth of woods embrac'd,
Some happier island in the watery waste,
Where flaves once more their native land behold,
No fiends torment, no Chriftians thirst for gold.
To Be, contents his natural defire,

105

Refpe&ting Man, whatever wrong we call
May, muft must be right, as relative to all.
In human works, though labour'd on with pain,
A thousand movements fcarce one purpofe gain:
In God's, one fingle can its end produce;
Yet ferves to fecond too fome other ufe.

He afks no Angel's wing, no Seraph's fire;
But thinks, admitted to that equal sky,

110

His faithful dog fhall bear him company.

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Deftroy all creatures for thy fport or guft,
Yet fay, if Man's unhappy, God 's unjust;
If Man alone ingrofs not Heaven's high care,
Alone made perfect here, immortal there :
Snatch from his hand the balance and the rod,
Re-judge his juftice, be the God of God.
In Pride, in reafoning Pride, our error lies;
All quit their fphere, and rush into the fkies.
Pride still is aiming at the blest abodes,

Men would be Angels, Angels would be Gods.
Afpiring to be Gods, if Angels fell,
Afpiring to be Angels, Men rebel:
And who but wishes to invert the laws
Of Order, fins against th' Eternal Cause,

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V. Ask for what end the heavenly bodies shine, Earth for whole ufe Pride answers," 'Tis for

mine:

135

For me kind Nature wakes her genial power; "Suckles each herb, and spreads out every flower; "Annual for me, the grape, the rofe, renew "The juice nectareous, and the balmy dew; "For me, the mine a thousand treasures brings; "For me, health gushes from a thousand springs; "Seas roll to waft me, funs to light me rife; "My foot-stool earth, my canopy the skies."

190

The bifs of Man (could Pride that blessing find)
Is Rot to act or think beyond mankind;
No powers of body or of foul to fhare,
But what his nature and his ftate can bear.

Why has not Man a microfcopic eye?
For this plain reafon, Man is not a Fly.
Say what the ufe, were finer optics given,
T'inspect a mite, not comprehend the heaven?
Or touch, if tremblingly alive all o'er,
To fmart and agonize at every pore?
Or quick efavia darting throngh the brain,
14 Die of a rofe in aromatic pain

145

But errs not Nature from this gracious end,
From burning funs when livid deaths defcend,
When earthquakes fwallow, or when tempefts fweep
Towns to one grave, whole nations to the deep?
"No ('tis reply'd) the first Almighty Cause
"Acts not by partial, but by general laws;
"Th' exceptions few; fome change fince all began:
"And what created perfect ?"-Why then Man?
If the great end be human Happiness,
Then Nature deviates; and can Man do leís?
As much that end a conftant course requires
Ot showers and fun-fhine, as of Man's defires;
As much eternal fprings and cloudless skies,
As men for ever temperate, calm, and wife.
If plagues or earthquakes break not Heaven's defiga
Why then a Borgin, or a Catiline ?

150

If Nature thunder'd in his opening ears,
And stunn'd him with the mufic of the spheres,
How would he wish that Heaven had left him still
The whispering Zephyr, and the purling rill !
Who finds not Providence all good and wife,
Alike in what it gives, and what denies ?

195.

200

205

210

275

VII. Far as Creation's ample range extends,
The scale of fenfual, mental powers afcends;
Mark how it mounts to Man's imperial race,
From the green myriads in the peopled grafs :
What modes of fight betwixt each wide extreme,
The mole's dim curtain, and the lynx's beam;
Of fmell, the headlong lionefs between,
And hound fagacious on the tainted green;
Of hearing, from the life that fills the flood,
To that which warbles through the vernal wood!
The spider's touch, how exquifitely fine!
Feels at each thread, and lives along the line:
In the nice bee, what fenfe fo fubtly true
From poisonous herbs extracts the healing dew! 220
How Inftin&t varies in the groveling fwine,
Compar'd, half-reafoning elephant, with thine!
Twixt that, and Keafon, what a nice barrier!
For ever feparate, yet for ever near!
Remembrance and Reflection how allied;
What thin partitions Senfe from Thought divide!
And Middle natures, how they long to join,
Yet never pafs th' infuperable line!
Without this juft gradation, could they be
Subjected, thefe to thofe, or all to thee?
The powers of all fubdued by thee alone,
17 Is not thy Reafon all these powers in one?

Who knows, but he whofe hand the lightning forms,
Who heaves old Ocean, and who wings the ftorms;
Pours fierce Ambition in a Cæfar's mind,
Or turns young Ammon loose to scourge mankind?160.
From pride, from pride, our very reafoning (prings;
Account for moral as for natural things:
Why charge we Heaven in thofe, in these acquit ?
In both, to reason right, is to submit.

Better for us, perhaps, it might appear,
Were there all harmony, all virtue here;
That never air or ocean felt the wind,
That never paffion difcompos'd the mind,
But all fubfifts by elemental ftrife;
And paffions are the elements of Life.

The general Order, fince the whole began,
Is kept in Nature, and is kept in Man.

165

225

234

VIII. See, through this air, this ocean, and this earth,

VI. What would this Man? Now upward will he All matter quick, and bursting into birth.

foar,

And, little less than Angel, would be more;

Above, how high, progreffive life may go!
Around, how wide! how deep extend below

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